


Send me an angel

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Car Accidents, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Injury Recovery, brief appearances by Lilith and Ruby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3086066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her name was Meg Masters. She had been taken by the ambulance to the nearest hospital, which was where Castiel worked. He may have snooped a little to find her information, her room number, but he needed to know if she was all right. He had been taken to the hospital as well, but it was only a sprained knee and he was given a brace with some pain medication and released. The day after he was busy with insurance claims and the damage to his car, but he managed to go in to work and find out who the woman was and that she was at least still alive. They told him to take off work for a few days, but he went in anyway to find her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Send me an angel

By and large, Castiel much preferred working the second shift at his clerical job in the hospital accounting department. Life seemed a little less hectic and the hours he kept routine meant he usually avoided large crowds of people when he went out grocery shopping and running errands. It was a little quieter, a little calmer. 

One thing that he very much did not like was driving home at two am in bad weather. Night driving did not usually bother Castiel, but night driving in adverse weather was nerve wracking to him. He drove slowly, cautiously, on the mostly deserted roads from the hospital to his small one bedroom apartment where he lived with his guinea pig. 

He probably should have staid and the hospital and waited out the building January snow storm that was coming down heavy already. Thick white flurries whipped in a strong wind and the roads were looking slick with the fresh snow over old ice. Castiel buttoned his coat up tight and tugged the scarf around his neck a little higher as he stood at the threshold of one of the employee entrances to the hospital and considered the weather. He considered his responsibility to his guinea pig as well and decided if he drove slow enough it shouldn’t be too bad. 

The roads were treacherous. Barely a few blocks from he hospital and Castiel was thinking that he should maybe turn his car around. It wasn’t even that far of a drive to his apartment, about fifteen minutes in good weather, but it had already taken him ten to get this far. He was gripping the wheel tight and easing over the crest of a steep hill when he hit a patch of black ice. It went too slow at first, the creeping realization that something was very very wrong, before it all went too fast and before he could blink his car was spinning out of control sliding sideways down the hill. 

He tried to remember what he was taught, turn into it, tap the breaks don’t slam them, stay calm. But he really could not stay not calm, especially not when he felt his car slamming into someone else and he couldn’t even see what direction he was hitting them in or where he was, it was all white white snow and bright car lights. Panting and shaking, Castiel gasped for air when he realized his car was sitting still again, and for the most part seeming incredibly whole and lucky. 

The airbag had deployed in his car and he had to push at it with shaking hands as he unbuckled his belt and stumbled out of the car. It was sitting crooked in the middle of the road with the front smashed and mangled. As he slid on the snowy road, he realized something was twisted in one of his legs, his knee weak and throbbing, but his arms seemed to work, he could breathe, and he had to find whoever he had hit.

Fumbling in his pocket for his phone, Castiel dialed 911 while he looked around and he couldn’t find a second car but he knew there had to be one. He noticed erratic tire tracks leading off the side of the road. There were woods over there, down a small slope, and at the bottom there was the second car run headfirst into a tree. 

Slipping and falling on his butt, he slid down the slope and hobbled to the other car while he relayed whatever information he could remember to the operator on his cell phone. When he got to the second car he dropped the phone trying to pull open the car door. There was a woman inside, with long brown hair matted on one side with blood, a tree branch through the window, glass scattered everywhere. Castiel remembered vaguely that he shouldn’t move her, shouldn’t disturb her, but she was slumped over and the dread in his chest made him touch her face. 

“Hey, hey are you alive, are you okay?”

When she groaned and rolled her head towards him Castiel dropped to his knees in the snow next to her car and pushed the hair off her face, cupping her cheeks and focusing on her glazed over brown eyes instead of looking at the damage, at the tree branch that looked like it was tangled up with her arm. 

She blinked at him and opened her mouth several times before croaking out, “Are you an angel?”

“No, I’m Castiel, oh God I’m so sorry, I hit you, I lost control and I hit you and I’m so sorry, but I called an ambulance, it’s going to be okay, you’ll be fine.”

The arm that was closest to him, the one that wasn’t trapped, reached up and she tried to grip onto him but her fingers weren’t working, so he grasped onto her forearm and leaned closer. Her eyes kept shutting as she panted and twitched, and he was listening for the sirens, listening so hard for anyone coming to help them, listening to her breath but it was getting more and more shallow. When she slumped back against the car seat, he slapped her cheek lightly. 

“No, no, stay with me, hey, come on, help will be here soon.”

She opened her eyes to look at him again and there was a smile on her bloodied face. “We’re going to heaven Clarence.”

When her head lolled over, Castiel tried to wake her up again. “No, no, no, no, oh God I’m so sorry, stay with me, please, I’m so sorry. Stay with me.”

He could hear the sirens in the distance and Castiel prayed, for the first time in years. He prayed for the angels to leave her here. 

-

Her name was Meg Masters. She had been taken by the ambulance to the nearest hospital, which was where Castiel worked. He may have snooped a little to find her information, her room number, but he needed to know if she was all right. He had been taken to the hospital as well, but it was only a sprained knee and he was given a brace with some pain medication and released. The day after he was busy with insurance claims and the damage to his car, but he managed to go in to work and find out who the woman was and that she was at least still alive. They told him to take off work for a few days, but he went in anyway to find her. 

Two days after the accident, Castiel gathered enough courage to find his way to her hospital room to apologize. He knocked tentatively at the door, two blond women in the room with Meg. She was laying in a hospital bed with bruises down one side of her face, an arm in a cast from shoulder to wrist, and her other arm in a sling on her chest with a cast on the wrist and forearm. 

One blond had straight hair, and one had curly; they both looked up at him curiously as he shuffled in the doorway. No one said anything so Castiel introduced himself. 

“Hello. My name is Castiel. I’m the one that hit you in the storm, I’m sorry. I just came to apologize. And see how you were.”

Meg arched an eyebrow at him, somehow managing to look intimidating in a flimsy hospital robe with both her arms broken. The blond with straight hair stood up and advanced on him. 

“You’re the fucking reason she’s in here?”

“Yes. It was an accident, I’m sorry.”

The curly haired blond by the bed scoffed at him, “Sorry doesn’t pay the hospital bills.”

“I’ve talked to the insurance company already, that will be covered.”

The straight haired blond was closer than Castiel would have liked. “So you hit her, she gets stuck with two broken arms, and you’ve got what, a sore knee,” she tilted her head towards his brace, folding her arms over her chest, “That hardly seems fair to me. Maybe we should even it out.”

Meg finally spoke up. “Ruby, fucks sake, it was an accident, the weather was shit.”

Ruby scowled, glaring at Castiel. The curly haired blond stood and walked over, placing a hand at the small of Ruby’s back. 

“Come on honey, why don’t we find Meg some decent coffee, the piss water they serve here is just pathetic.”

Meg shifted in her bed, sighing, “Thanks Lililth.”

“No problem doll.”

Lililth pulled a still frowning Ruby out of the room, who kept her eyes on Castiel until she was tugged down the hallway. Castiel was decidedly uncomfortable, but rooted to the spot with his guilt. 

“So, Cas is it, what are you doing here?”

He was still hovering in the doorway. 

“I just wanted to see how you are.”

“Pretty fucking crappy. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I would think that’s kind of obvious.”

“I’m sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“You know, I actually believe you, you can turn off the puppy eyes. Man, shit happens. Don’t worry about it.”

He couldn’t fathom that she was so casually accepting of it. 

“Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t know how long you’ll be in the hospital, but if there’s any assistance you need while you recover, I’d be glad to.”

“If this is some creepy helpful guy way you’re going to try suggesting sponge baths, you can forget it.”

Castiel felt his cheeks flushing. 

“I hadn’t meant it like that.”

“Mhmm. Well, I don’t know how useful I’m going to be, and if you want to help I’m sure Ruby and Lililth would appreciate it, I really don’t want to put too much on them. They’re good friends, but you know, they got their own lives.”

“I could run errands for you, grocery shop. Something like that?”

That seemed like something neutral, safe to suggest, it didn’t involve much interaction with her or intruding on her home. 

She considered this, pursing her lips. “Yeah all right, that would be cool.”

-

He had staid and talked to Meg until her friends showed up with Starbuck’s coffee. They covered the basics, when she would be released, where she lived. She dictated a grocery list and he stood by her bed awkwardly guilty about the bruises on her face and the way she shifted uncomfortably without being able to use either of her arms. But then her friends were back and they both gave him cold glares until he left. 

Castiel was glad she was alive. That she was still whole, she wasn’t missing any limbs they were just temporarily out of use. She had friends to help look after her, the insurance companies were coming through surprisingly efficiently. It wasn’t a good situation, but it was certainly far better than it could have been. 

He went back to work, grateful for a clerical job with his still sore knee. He had to rely on his friend Hannah for a ride to work a few times, but his car was repaired by the end of the week. Which was good, because he had agreed to bring Meg groceries that Saturday. She had mostly requested things that could be easily made with one semi functional hand. Her arm didn’t have to stay in the sling long, and although the cast around her wrist would make it hard to use all her fingers, at least it didn’t go up past her elbow and she could still bend that. Unfortunately, the semi functional hand was her left one. The whole right arm was out of commission. 

Castiel got everything she had asked for, but he also bought a slew of fresh vegetables and ingredients to make her some dinners himself. It was important to eat healthy especially when recovering from a physical trauma. Castiel wasn’t certain if she would like the kind of food he might make for her, but he hoped she would at least appreciate the gesture. 

Although he would buy her things that had meat in them, Castiel was a vegetarian and didn’t like working with meat. It squicked him out. So he made her curry with tofu, bean soup, spaghetti with vegetables, fresh hummus. He labeled everything and packed it in containers neatly. 

Taking her the requested groceries as well as his home made meals on Sunday, Castiel didn’t have any free hands when he found himself at her apartment door laden with food so he nudged his foot against the door in a gentle kick. He could hear Meg on the other side, fussing with the lock and cursing. 

She pulled the door open and stood scrutinizing him, hair a tangled mess, face pale and bruised, bare foot. 

"What’s all of that?"

"These are the groceries you requested."

Castiel lifted on arm with tote bags hanging off.

"These are some meals I made for you."

He shrugged the shoulder of the other arm with a box tucked under it against his hip.

"You…. cooked for me?"

"Yes."

Meg stepped aside to let him in the apartment, closing the door behind him and leading him to a kitchen. It was a small place, cluttered but tidy. Statuettes and weird sculptures, old bowls and strange things that looked broken but interesting, lined the tops of tables and shelves. The sling was gone already, so Meg had one semi functional arm as she pried open cupboards and tried to put groceries away.

Castiel moved around her, bumped into her, stepped on her toes a few times. Any time she tried to lift a box or can with fingers she could barely close around them with the cast on her left arm from elbow to above the thumb, Castiel took the items from her and set them where it looked like she was trying to go.

"Ok, I appreciate you trying to help, I do, but seriously I’m not an invalid."

"You’ve only been out of the hospital a week."

"I can manage."

"But it would be easier if you just told me where to put things."

"I don’t give a shit about easy. Man, back off."

Castiel frowned and tucked himself into a corner while she repeatedly dropped cans and boxes on the counters. It was cramped in the kitchen with just the small round table and two chairs in the corner. He felt if he pulled a chair out to sit he’d be in her way. Eventually, Meg had the groceries put away and she turned her attentions to the box of pre-made meals.

"You didn’t have to cook."

"I don’t mind."

Dragging a container out of the box and dropping it on the counter, she opened a drawer and got a fork, digging around in the food with a scrutinizing glare.

"What is this?"

"Curry tofu."

"Tofu?"

"Tofu."

"Why?"

"Oh. I, ah, I’m vegetarian."

She swiveled her head towards him.

"I don’t mind bringing you meat, I just, don’t like handling it."

"Huh."

Meg made several attempts to balance the fork in between the fingers of her left hand and then it took several more attempts to balance food on the fork to lift it to her mouth.

She didn’t even finish swallowing when she said around the food, “Holy shit this is delicious.”

"I’m glad you like it."

Castiel smiled at Meg, genuinely pleased that he could provide something healthy for her during her recovery that she would enjoy. She was digging another fork out of the drawer and waving it at him.

"C’mon, dig in, you should have some of this too."

He was very fond of his curry tofu. Standing next to her and eating it cold out of the container, she had a very pretty smile despite the bruises on her face. After they’d finished, she let him stack the rest of the containers in the fridge. When he turned around she was rummaging through her purse and pulling out a check book.

"How much do I owe you?"

"For what?"

"For the groceries."

"Oh. No. You don’t have to pay me for them."

"What? No, that’s, I’m going to pay you for them."

"I really don’t mind. You’re probably missing work because of me."

"Okay, one, it was an accident. Two, I only accepted your help in the first place because I was high on pain meds. You don’t owe me anything. Tell me how much it was."

"No."

"No?"

"Let me do this."

"Look I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of this, being Mr Nice Guy, but it’s not happening."

"I’m not trying to get anything out of it. I feel bad."

"Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t feel bad for me, shit happens."

Castiel realized they could probably talk each other in circles for hours about this. He did assert that he would not have her paying for the groceries, it was just one small thing he could do to assuage his guilt, and Meg eventually hung her purse back up on a hook. He had stood around awkwardly, asking if there were anything else he should do, when Meg sighed and rolled her eyes. She asked if he would put on a pot of coffee. Apparently she’d had a miserable caffeine-less week, unable to lift the glass pot of water up to fill the coffee machine.

He was glad that she would give him something to do, even something small, but it surprised him when she told him to put on a full pot and stay a while. If he wanted to. If he didn’t have anywhere to go. He did want to, and he had no where else to be. When the pot was brewed, Castiel carried their cups into the living room. Meg couldn’t hold a cup without sloshing or dropping it, so she sat on the floor and sipped from the cup still on the table, tipping it towards her mouth and huffing in frustration.

They didn’t talk about the accident. Castiel didn’t have much interesting to say, his job was boring, his life was quiet, and he liked it that way. Meg worked as a bartender, which she wouldn’t be able to do for a while. Conversation was stilted, until they stopped trading the requisite background material and Castiel asked about a strange vase on her shelf that he liked. Meg was happy to tell him where and how she came to every odd thing around her apartment. Castiel listened fondly, when he was little his mother used to take him antiquing on the weekends. He had loved to make up stories for things, the lives they had and the things they’d seen - even though they were inanimate objects.

The day passed pleasantly, and Castiel promised to come back again the next week with groceries. The same list. Plus home made meals. Meg told him he shouldn’t bother, and she expected a receipt next time. Castiel was still intent on spending Saturday cooking, but he’d save the receipt. It would be a compromise of sorts.

-

The next Sunday, Castiel was putting groceries away while Meg glared at him but stayed sitting at the table, when a fluffy black cat appeared in the doorway. The cat had a white patch of fur on it’s chest, with bright green eyes, and sat watching Castiel much the same way that Meg did.

"I didn’t know you had a cat."

Meg glanced over to the doorway.

"Oh, that’s Belladonna. She was hiding last time, she’s not too friendly around strangers."

"She’s very pretty."

Meg crouched and held her left arm out for the cat to rub against, and Castiel tried not to startle her as he moved around the kitchen. He wasn’t expecting any affection, or even interaction, from the cat. But after she had received her due attention from her mother and sized Castiel up, apparently he was deemed worth. Belladonna jaunted forward and wove between his legs a few times with her tail held high before sauntering out of the kitchen. Meg was staring at him wide eyed.

"What are you, some kind of pussy whisperer?"

"I’m going to ignore that phrase. And she only rubbed against my legs for a minute."

"She doesn’t like anyone."

Castiel shrugged and finished with the groceries, put on a pot of coffee, and unloaded the dishwasher while Meg told him she could put dishes away herself, she’d only broken two mugs and a bowl in the last week thank you very much. By the time they had finished arguing over it, all the dishes were put away.

-

The following two Sundays were much the same. Castiel brought food, they ate lunch together, then sat in the living room to drink coffee and talk. Meg asked him for recipes, which he wrote on note cards and set in a kitchen drawer for her. Castiel bought a pack of rainbow colored crazy straws, which he put in her coffee with a few ice cubes. Meg glowered at him, but sat on the couch with the cup pressed against her chest with her left arm to sip from it with the straw. 

Belladonna staid in the doorways to watch them a little longer, and sat a little closer to Castiel, then a little closer still, until she let him pet her for a grand total of three strokes. It was progress.

Talking about the kitsch along her shelves led to talking about the books around her apartment, and Castiel brought new ones over for her to read while he borrowed the ones she had, so they’d have more things to talk about. 

More often than not they disagreed - passionately - during conversations on serious subjects like religion and politics, but also when it came to music and art. They didn’t seem to have a lot in common, but managed to find the differences interesting.

Sundays with Meg turned into a bright spot during his week.

-

The fifth Sunday that Castiel saw Meg, she was in a foul mood. The butternut squash soup that he had made didn’t seem to appease her. She scowled, and bit back caustic remarks, and seemed generally avoidant. He could understand the frustration of dealing with a less than ideal situation, injury and illness having a way of wearing someone down to frayed nerves. Castiel only wanted to help, but when he asked her for the third time that day what was wrong, she finally snapped.

"Do you really want to know what’s wrong, Cas, because I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I’ve got a cute guy coming to my apartment every week and all I can manage to pull on is sweat pants, my hair is lanky because I have to wait for Ruby to help me bathe, I can’t put a goddam tampon in and I hate pads, and do you know when the last time was that I had an orgasm? Since before the accident!"

Meg shrugged and gestured weakly with her one fully straight in a cast arm and the other half in a cast, making what looked like they were supposed to be lewd gestures but he couldn’t be certain.

"I can’t masturbate like this!"

She turned away from him and thunked her head on the wall.

"I’m tired, I’m dirty, I’m horny, all I want is some fucking chocolate, and I turn into a raging twat when I’m on my period."

She continued to hit her head against the wall a few times.

Castiel squinted at her back.

"If you want, we could move a chair to the kitchen sink and I’ll wash your hair."

She turned around, forehead red, and stared at him.

"What?"

"I can’t really help with the rest of that - except the chocolate, I’ll go out for something in a bit - but if you would like, I’ll wash your hair.”

Meg stared at him, mouth open a little, looked down at herself and frowned, and finally sighed with her whole body as her shoulders slumped and she seemed to concede the point. 

“That might be nice.”

Castiel fetched the bottle of shampoo, conditioner, and a towel from the bathroom. Meg was dragging a chair across the kitchen with a screech on the linoleum and Castiel took it from her, setting it in front of the sink. More often than not, she still seemed reluctant to accept his help in any form. Although frustrating, it was one of the things that Castiel found himself admiring about her, her strength and sense of independence. 

Setting a half full tub of dishes on the counter and washing out the sink first, Castiel folded the towel and set it on the ledge while Meg figured out how best to settle in the chair so that she could lean back against the sink with her arms in a somewhat tolerable position. Castiel made sure the water was warm in the corner of the sink before taking up the vegetable sprayer. Her long wavy brown hair was almost black when it was wet. 

“Is that a good temperature?”

“Yeah, that feels good.”

Meg had her eyes closed. Castiel squeezed shampoo into his palm and spread it carefully into her hair, keeping it out of her eyes, massaging his fingers against her scalp. She sighed and relaxed visibly, shoulders sagging. 

“So, we never really talk about personal stuff. We don’t have to, or anything, but uh, why don’t you tell me something interesting about yourself.”

“About me?”

“Yeah. You seem to know a little bit about a lot of things.”

“I have a pretty boring life. I have an accounting job, I honestly don’t do much outside of work.”

“An accounting job, is that something you had to go to college for?”

“Yes. I double majored in business and philosophy.”

“Oh, well those two usually go together, that’s not interesting at all.”

“You’re a very sarcastic person.”

“I am. So, I can see you as the business major type, where’d the philosophy come from?”

“I grew up in a very conservative household. You could say I was sheltered. When I went to college and was exposed to a wider array of people, I was curious. I took a philosophy course as an elective and just became very interested in it. Of course I still pursued my business major to satisfy my family.”

“So, you got interested in that stuff in college, and what, just forgot about it when you graduated and went into what your family wanted?”

“Not exactly.”

Meg’s head lolled side to side as he gently turned her to clean behind her ears. He may have lingered, with his fingers in her hair, enjoying it. But she seemed to be enjoying it too. Somehow it was easier to talk to her when she had her eyes closed. He didn’t know why they avoided talking about more personal things so far. It was nice though. Despite her sarcastic wit, she did seem genuinely interested. 

“In the last year of college, I met a boy.”

“Oooh, a boy? Go on.”

“He was a bit of a vagrant. I didn’t exactly know until I’d been with him a few months - he always came back to my dorm - but he lived out of his car. He sort of slotted in alongside the new and exciting things I was wanting to explore. After I graduated, I packed the few possessions I had and took to the road with him. It always felt like he gave me wings.”

“Was he your first?”

“He was my first of a lot of things.”

“What was his name?”

“Dean.”

“So how’d that go?”

“It was great for a while, everything I never knew existed and thought I wanted. But I spiraled out of control. I didn’t really know what to do with my new found freedom. Too many drugs, nameless orgies, petty crimes, I think by the end, I didn’t recognize myself and I don’t think Dean knew who I was anymore either.”

“Drugs and orgies, really? Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Hm.”

“So you got a bit of a wild streak?”

“I suppose.”

“You end up in rehab or something?”

Castiel started rinsing out her hair, watching the soap bubbles swirl down the drain.

“No. I just woke up. I decided to leave. Find myself in something else. I wandered for a while, aimlessly, until I landed here. I eventually found a balance, between the strict control I was raised in and the destructive recklessness Dean ignited.”

“I’m glad you ended up here.”

“I broke your arms.”

“It makes for an interesting story. Sides, I am glad, that I met you. I mean that.”

“Here, head up.”

Castiel wrung the excess water out of her hair and starting lathing conditioner through it. 

“What about yourself? Did you go to college?”

“Nah, I’m a high school drop out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I grew up in a trailer park, with my dad and brother. Didn’t really have any dreams. I met a boy, too. When I was sixteen. Luke. He was the bad boy on a bike, promised me the world so I followed him. You know how the story goes.”

“And how does it end?”

“Not too well. After a few years I was finally fed up and I left, came crawling back home with my tail tucked between my legs but I was too prideful to go back to my dad. My friend Ruby, she let me crash at her place, helped me get back on my feet.”

Rinsing his hands off, he let the conditioner sit in Meg’s hair for a bit. 

“It’s interesting isn’t it. How people leave their mark on us. Long after they’ve gone, the landscape is just, different.”

“Yeah.”

“Tip your head back.”

Meg leaned back against the sink and he rinsed her hair out, cupping a hand against her forehead to keep the spray off her face, wringing it out and wrapping it in the towel when she sat back up. 

“I don’t think I’ve asked, how old are you, if you don’t mind.”

“Twenty two. You?”

“Mm. Thirty one.”

Meg nudged him with her shoulder, winking at him. 

“Hey, lots of girls like older guys. They’re more mature.”

Castiel turned away under the pretense of drying his hands on a towel. He could feel his cheeks heating. 

“Sorry, don’t mean to make it awkward, you probably don’t want a girl hitting on you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Oh yeah?”

Castiel tucked the towel back into the handle of the cupboard where it had been hanging. 

“I think those sweat pants look quite flattering on you.”

Meg laughed. There was a curl of wet hair fallen out of the towel by one of her ears, and although most of the bruises had faded a small pink cut was scarring across one cheek, but her smile was wide and her eyes were bright. She was beautiful. 

“All right. We need chocolate. I’m thinking a movie and ice cream, if you’d like.”

“God, that sounds fantastic.”

“What do you want?”

“Definitely chocolate chip cookie dough. Why don’t you surprise me with the movie?”

“I believe a rom-com would complete the stereotypical turn of events.”

“Ungh. I’d say I don’t like rom-coms, but I gotta be honest, I’m curious what you consider to be a good one.”

“I’ll surprise you.”

-

It was late by the time Castiel made it back to Meg’s apartment with a gallon if ice cream and a movie. Almost nine o’clock. But they both kept a late schedule anyway. The kitchen had been tidied when he came in, and Belladonna conveyed her delight on his return by attempting to trip him. 

“Hey, thanks for going out again. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. Not because I feel guilty. I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Yeah, okay. What movie did you get?”

Castiel held his goodies up. The requested chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, and a movie he thought Meg might appreciate, ‘Secretary’. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Really? That counts as rom-com material to you?”

“Well, it’s romantic and it has a lot of humorous moments.”

“I don’t know if most people would think it’s romantic, but it’s the kind of romance I can get behind.”

“You’ve seen it before?”

“Yeah, but not for a while. I like it, let’s watch it.”

Meg brought extra blankets in from the bedroom while Castiel put the movie in and dusted off the tv screen. Fetching two spoons from the kitchen, they settled on the couch with the ice cream between them. Meg was fairly dexterous eating with her left hand in a cast, but cursed every time she dropped some of it. Eventually, she let Castiel feed her, and by the middle of the movie they’d finished off the whole gallon between them.

Under pretense of cold, they ended up pressed side by side underneath a blanket. When Mr. Gray was carrying Lee in the soiled wedding dress up the stairs, Meg was crying quietly against his shoulder. Of course, Castiel didn’t say anything, and when she hurriedly wiped her eyes before turning the light back on at the end, he still remained silent on the matter. 

-

Meg’s left arm cast came off later that week. She was determined to go back to work one handed. Castiel suspected that it was mostly because she couldn’t afford any more time off, and wouldn’t accept his help financially. She did however, welcome his company. Castiel started spending Saturday at Meg’s as well as Sunday. He brought all the groceries straight to her apartment and taught her his recipes first hand. She asked to go grocery shopping with him, because she was not certain where he ‘even finds all that hippy food’ but she liked it. Belladonna spent most Saturdays watching them cook. 

Then he started spending his time during the week there. Returning books after work. Helping fold laundry. Watching movies. Attempting to complete a jigsaw puzzle before Belladonna could steal pieces. He gravitated towards Meg, it was easy. He was welcome there. 

-

It was a Friday night when they were curled together on the couch, Meg rested between Castiel’s legs and leaning back against his chest, dozing quietly. Her right arm was still in a cast, but her left was doing well with physical therapy. Castiel still liked to run his hands from the elbow to the wrist and gently knead his thumbs into the palm of her hand. He figured it must be sore, and from the way her lips curled up slightly and she sighed, pliant in his hold, he knew he was right.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he wanted to ask about something that had been shuffling around in the back of his mind. 

“Do you remember much from the night of the accident?”

“No. It’s pretty hazy.”

“You asked if I was an angel.”

“Did I? Didn’t know I said that out loud.”

“Yes.”

“I think it must have been the moon. I could have sworn you had a halo.”

“Hardly.”

“I don’t know, out of all the people I could have gotten hit by, I think I got lucky.”


End file.
